


@her_meowjesty

by fourstrings



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 11:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12982773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourstrings/pseuds/fourstrings
Summary: For day two of Ignis Fluff Week - Getting in to trouble, and the prompt "Oops".  Social media mistakes are made.





	@her_meowjesty

A six-month anniversary might be a silly thing to celebrate, but Ignis can't bring himself to regret it when he sees them together. Noctis, looking absolutely dumbstruck in the happiest of ways, and the tiny kitten so clearly already in love with him, purring ferociously where he cradles her against his chest. 

“You're the best,” Noctis says breathlessly, and because he's still gazing at the kitten Ignis assumes it's directed at her. She does too, judging by the happy flick of her ears, but then Noctis adds “Seriously, Specs. I can't believe you got me a _cat_ ,” and seeing him so happy makes Ignis' chest ache. He takes a picture, and it's so perfect he can't resist.

“Look,” he says, turning his phone for Noct to see the screen. Noct's smile is soft and adoring, and the kitten is stretching up to rub her head against Noct's chin, her single white forepaw a stark contrast to her black fur and Noct's black clothes. “Shall I update your Kweh account welcoming her to the royal family?”

“Yeah,” Noctis says, and he's so absorbed in moving one finger so that the kitten bats at it that Ignis isn't sure he was listening until he adds - “Tell people to spay and neuter their pets. And... tell them her name's Astra.”

Astra. Oh. It's a lovely gesture, a nod to their childhood stargazing exploits. It's moments of sweetness like this that take the sting out of the fact that their relationship is a secret. Ignis kisses Noct, rubs Astra behind the ears, and uploads the picture.

In his defence, he didn't even know there was such a phenomenon as celebrity pets.

–

When the packages addressed to Astra Lucis Caelum start arriving, Ignis assumes Noctis is simply trying to disguise how much he's spending on cat toys. It's silly, really; they're small things, just a little indulgence every few weeks, but Ignis is probably technically supposed to encourage Noctis not to waste his money on frivolous things. Then they start arriving more frequently, and Ignis starts to think maybe he should have a word, until one day he lets himself into the apartment to find Noctis and Astra sitting in front of a whole pile of them. A pile large enough to be completely ridiculous, and he opens his mouth to say so when Noctis beats him to the punch.

“This is getting a little too extra, even for you.”

“Pardon?”

“The presents for Astra. It's cute and all, but she's got enough. We can't be paying you that much.”

“They're not from me,” Ignis replies testily, because if it's not him and it's not Noctis it's a mystery, and Ignis is not a man who appreciates mysteries. Especially as they concern packages arriving at Noct's home address. Everything is checked through official channels before they're sent on, of course, but it's still unsettling. As Noctis frowns and pokes suspiciously at the pile, Ignis has a thought. He opens up Noct's Kweh account – not his personal one, which is accessible only to Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis himself, but the public one Ignis manages. There's the first picture he posted of Noctis with Astra, which was a few months ago now, and a more recent one of her that was posted to accompany a plea for attention to an adoption drive for the ISPCA. Gifts for Astra were not really the intent, and the post has no more likes than any of the others on Noct's official account do, but it's a start. Ignis makes a note to himself to stop sharing pictures of her in the hopes of stemming the flow, and sets about making dinner.

–

The flow of gifts remains unstemmed. It's the strangest thing; there's a near-constant trickle of them, but it spikes at points that seem entirely unconnected to anything. Ignis doesn't give it too much thought, and then one day Noctis looks up pale faced from a text exchange – presumably with Prompto, because he's the only person who can wring more than monosyllabic responses from the prince – and clears his throat.

“Uh, Specs?”

“Mm?” He's listening, really. He's just deep into summarising a report that is almost guaranteed to put Noctis to sleep without heavy editing.

“Don't... don't yell, okay?”

Ignis pushes his glasses up his nose and sighs. He is not in the habit of yelling, and he rather hopes the nature of their relationship indicates that Noctis thinks better of him than that. Therefore, the request bodes very ill indeed.

“What,” he asks, in a very calm and definitely-not-yelling voice, “did you do?”

“It wasn't me! I mean, it wasn't _just_ me, alright?”

“Noctis,” Ignis says, and it sounds a lot closer to a pre-yell, even to his own ears. Noctis just moves to his side, opens a browser window over the report, and brings up the website for a rather tacky celebrity news site. Ignis hates them; nasty, grubby things with no respect for privacy or the people they feature. This one bears the appalling headline WHO'S POLISHING THE CROWN JEWELS? and...

Oh. Oh, dear.

“That,” Ignis says crisply, “appears to be my arse.”

It is, in fact, his arse. Or more precisely three-quarters of his arse plus his back and shoulders, blurry in the background of a photo of Astra sprawled happily on Noct's bed with her paws in the air. Ignis looks at Noctis. Noctis looks back at Ignis, then at the laptop, and then rather determinedly at the floor.

“Why,” Ignis asks, “is my arse on the internet?”

“Prompto's been running a Kweh account for Astra. _I didn't know,_ ” Noctis adds, sounding equal parts peevish and sheepish. “Apparently accounts for pets are a thing, and I sent him this picture, and he put it up. He took it down as soon as he realized, but... not fast enough, I guess.”

“Why,” Ignis asks, tactfully not adding _in the name of Shiva's frosty nipples_ , “did you send a picture with my arse in it to _Prompto?_ ”

“I didn't notice!” There is a pause, in which Ignis' brow furrows and Noct's mouth twists up apologetically. He points at the screen. “I mean, you can see her beans _and_ her tum.”

Ignis gets a migraine.

–

The next few days are trying. Prompto is apologetic to the point of tears, offering to close the account (which Ignis accepts) and to report to the dungeons (which Ignis declines, if only because the Citadel does not have dungeons). Ignis hears him one day at the tail end of yet another effusive apology to Noctis, tentatively asking “so... the guy in the picture...”

“Drop it,” Noctis says, and over the sound of Prompto's nervous _sure, haha, sorry,_ Ignis counts his blessings. If there's one thing this experience has taught him it's that if Prompto knew, so would the rest of the world. He doesn't linger over the thought; he's far too busy issuing no-comments to media types on Noct's behalf. 

It doesn't help. The bloody thing's gone viral, and it seems like everywhere he turns he's confronted with screenshots of Astra looking blissful, the caption “fridays got me feelin like”, and his own astrals-damned arse. There's to be a meeting with the Crownsguard, and there'll have to be an official statement. Most terrifying is the fact that the King himself wants to see them – Noctis alone, initially, and then with Ignis present to help co-ordinate the response. 

“We'll have to tell him,” Ignis says heavily, and Noct's head jerks up.

“You're not resigning,” he snaps, and Ignis closes his mouth so quickly his teeth click while he considers his response.

“I may not have a choice in the matter, love.” He may, if he's extremely bloody lucky, not be the cause for a re-introduction of the firing squad. Noctis is of age, but he's the prince, and Ignis has been trusted to manage his affairs. Which he's either done appallingly or with rather too much zeal, depending on one's interpretation of the word affair. 

“I do,” Noctis says, and the calculated malice in his voice is alarming. “If they fire you they have to replace you, and if they do that I'll make your replacement's life so shitty they _beg_ you to come back.”

“That's extremely uncharitable, Noctis,” Ignis says, fighting not to sound charmed by the force of the response. Apparently he loses, because Noctis smiles smugly and kisses him on the cheek.

“It's gonna be fine, Specs. Dad'll flip his shit and it'll all blow over. You'll see.”

“Easy for you to say,” Ignis grumbles, slipping a finger behind his glasses to rub his eyes as his phone starts to ring yet again. “It's not your arse that's a viral sensation.”

–

Gladio is driving them to the meeting with the King. This is a bad sign, Ignis feels, because it may indicate that he will not be available to drive Noctis back. He's so busy worrying about that he doesn't notice that Gladio is taking a rather strange route to the Citadel until he's pulling over behind an abandoned looking factory. Ignis gulps.

“What am I to you?” Gladio asks, twisting in his seat to look back at Noctis with fire in his eyes. Noctis, who'd been trying to take a nap, blinks in alarm.

“I – what?”

“Your _shield_ , Noct. How the hell am I supposed to protect you when you're keeping secrets?” He slams a meaty fist against the inside of the car door, and Ignis jumps.

“Gladio, I think -”

“Nah, Iggy. I know you'd rather do this in private, but you're too soft on the kid. He needs to tell us. He's screwed you with this too, you know.”

_Ahaha,_ Ignis thinks with slight hysteria, _phrasing_. Fortunately, Gladio is plunging ahead before he can say anything stupid.

“Who is this guy? I know you didn't submit his details for vetting. How long has it been going on? He sure seemed comfortable in your place. Goin' at it with a minor's a crime, but when the minor's the prince? That's _treason_.”

“It wasn’t like that! He wouldn't touch me before my birthday!” It's a rather sweet defence, but to Ignis' slight horror his eyes flick to Ignis as he says it. It had been rather a sore point with Noctis, at the time.

“Because if I hear otherwise,” Gladio continues, “or if I find out he's ever hurt you in any way-” and he turns his face slowly, terrifyingly, towards Ignis - “I'll wring his neck.”

“Ack,” says Ignis. He swallows. “That is to say, I-”

“Relax,” Gladio says, turning back around and starting the car again. “I've known for months. But if you idiots are gonna keep secrets, at least try to _keep_ them.”

“Asshole,” Noct grumbles from the backseat, tucking down with the apparent intent of re-attempting his nap as Ignis waves a shushing hand at him.

“Thank you, Gladio.”

“Don't think you're off the hook. Squats with me, tomorrow at 5:30 am. That ass is a disgrace. How do those sparkly jeans even stay up?”

–

At the Citadel, Ignis squeezes Noct's hand briefly while they're still in the car. Best if they maintain a degree of separation heading in, at least until the King has been informed and had his say. Gladio snorts and wishes them luck in a way that doesn't sound entirely insincere before he drives away and Noctis heads into his father's office, leaving Ignis to worry about ruining his shirt with nervous sweat stains until he's summoned. He's surprised to see Noct emerge again within ten minutes or so, with an inscrutable expression that makes Ignis' stomach knot. 

“I told him. He wants to talk to you alone.”

There are guards outside the office door, of course. Ignis doesn't let that stop him from squeezing Noct's hand again before he steps inside and shuts the door behind him.

Regis is a wise man, with a kind face and a demeanour that ensures he is beloved by his people. Ignis has always admired him; loved him, even, and felt honoured that the King seemed to like him in return. Now, looking at him sat behind his desk with his hands folded in front of him and what seems to be a carefully blank expression, Ignis feels like hiding behind a chair.

“Your Majesty,” he says, and bows.

“Ignis. Be seated.” The King waits until Ignis has done so before he speaks again, drumming his fingertips over the polished surface of his desk. The chair is extremely comfortable, with the kind of upholstery that almost feels as if it's embracing him. All the better to prevent him from fleeing, Ignis supposes. “My son informs me that the recent media debacle is ultimately the result of a relationship the two of you have been carrying on in secret. Would your version of events confirm this?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Ignis replies manfully, in lieu of pitching himself out the window.

“Protocol, the management of which I believe is within _your_ purview as regards Noctis, would have required you to make a submission to your direct supervisor before proceeding.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” It's possible that this is one of those situations in which it's better to say as little as possible, but it makes Ignis sick to think he's disappointed a man who has always been so good to him. To feel as if he's betrayed him. So he takes a breath, lifts his chin. “I deeply regret my conduct, but most of all I regret disappointing you.”

“And the relationship?”

Ignis blinks.

“Your Majesty?”

“Do you regret your relationship with Prince Noctis, now that you've been exposed in such a manner?”

“No, your Majesty.” Ignis doesn't even think, just blurts it out. Too fast to be proper, he suspects, but to hell with it. “I love him.”

“I see. Well, As there's been no detrimental impact upon your performance in the time you've been together – which Noctis informs me has been _months_ \- I see no reason to put a stop to it now. And if I may speak for a moment as my son's father rather than as the king?” 

It takes a moment for Ignis to realise that the King is in fact waiting for a response, and he nods dumbly. 

“Be as good to him in this as you have been in all else, and you have my blessing.” And finally, _finally_ , he smiles, and Ignis feels as though angels have parted the clouds to let the sun peek through after a year of storm. “Now go and tell Noctis I didn't fire you, and I'll see you both here for dinner on Friday. Oh, and Ignis?”

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“ _Do_ remember to wear pants.”

– 

The storm passes. Dinner with the King is a pleasant affair, the media soon find something else to pay attention to after an official statement is released, and Ignis receives only a mild ribbing from the rest of the Crownsguard and one light-hearted death threat each from Cor Leonis and Clarus Amicitia. It's funny, he thinks as he lets himself in to Noct's apartment, but for all the stress it caused it seems to have brought them closer. It's wonderful to be open about it, and while he remains fairly reserved in public there's something rather special about knowing that his love for Noctis is out there now, free and known rather than a secret jealously guarded. Ignis loves being able to take Noctis out to dinner, loves not having to keep a respectable distance when they're with friends. And he loves nights like this, unchanged from what they used to do but all the more precious for the fact that staying in with only one another (and Astra, the indirect cause of it all) to occupy them is a choice, not a necessity. Noctis greets him with a kiss as he arrives, his fingers curling possessively in Ignis' lapels, and Ignis holds him close even when he breaks the kiss.

“I brought you a present,” he says, and smiles at the way Noctis lights up, eager as a child on his birthday.

“Yeah? C'mon, don't hold out on me.”

Ignis brushes another little kiss against Noct's lips before slipping him the box. It's small, wrapped in thick black paper embossed with stars and tied with a silver bow. Something that's wasted on Noctis as he tears the paper away and opens the box, before staring at the contents in clear confusion.

“The hell is this?” he asks, lifting the cell phone. “It's got _buttons_.”

Vintage, the ad had said, though Ignis thinks that's a stretch. 

“And,” he says, his mouth curling into a smile, “no camera.”

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for Muse - co-creator of Astra, inspiration for the whole fic, and utter delight to know. I'm not telling her about this, so it'll be fun to see if she notices.


End file.
